bleeding stars
by roseusvortex
Summary: They twinkle so innocently in the sky that no one ever suspects them. Giftfic for bkwrmlvit!


**Belated giftfic for...*dramatic pause* KITT! Happy Birthday, m'dear! Sorry it is so belated.** **:p** **I read the book as quick as** **I** **could... and** **I** **know it's one of your favs... so yeah.** **I** **hope you enjoy** **it!**

 **I** **sincerely** **I** **hope there aren't** _**too** _**many grammar errors in this.** **:p**

 **Inspired by: the stars and 'Human' by Christina Arguilera  
**

 **Edited 9/15/2016**

 **Please review.** **;)**

* * *

 _Twinkle... twinkle...  
_

* * *

The stars shine, sparkle, and they _burn._ Those dots that are speckled on a blank, black canvas. They represent something, she thinks, something that no one can touch, yet they stay up in their safe haven, staring down at the people and their silly wars and their stupid, _stupid_ death.

Her hand reaches up and she wants to take one in her tiny hand, take it to the starving man in her basement. To show him that if bringing down the stars is possible, then surely, this world can be a better place through time.

She can't, though, and that frightens her, that she might be stuck down here, with people that stumble down the street, to people who disappear _every single day._

Her fingers strain and her hand barely misses them, as they shine down, mocking her.

It makes her think.

...maybe...

They are life.

A single thought stops her.

...or maybe not...

...maybe, they do touch the stars, just once.

It's fleeting and it's at the end.

The very end of the tracks, the corner, the shadow echo that _nobody_ looks or tries to touch. No wonder the stars only show up in the darkness.

For her, death isn't at the end of the tracks.

It's somewhere around the middle and on the tracks, there is a train, that screams in the silent night when all the stars are covered by grey clouds.

* * *

 _...little star..  
_

* * *

He is starving, they are all starving. In kitchens, in the streets and in the basements. Especially the ones that are filled with paint and words scribbled on the walls. Untidy scrawls that are carved into the walls, to be learned, written, and read by those starving people.

Food isn't the only thing you can be starved of, sometimes it is freedom and other times, it is peace and sanity.

For the tiny, dark eyed book thief, it is words. The words that bring down evil, _evil_ leaders and shake the stars from the sky.

She knows that the man behind that door is starved of many things.

Sometimes it kills her inside.

Everyone is starved inside at one point of their lives. What an awful, _awful_ world they live in. Still they live because they wait.

They wait.

For those moments that aren't so awful.

* * *

. _..how I wonder...  
_

* * *

It takes death for her to realize and confirm her fears. That life isn't just the stars that shine bright in the skies. Both life and death shine in that sky. You can't have one without the others, it takes one moment to find the huge and subtle difference between each single bright light that is always there, watching.

Some people never see it.

Some people reach up and take the wrong star.

...and some people only see it when they are sobbing over the silent body of their loved one, kissing their cold lips and finally, _finally,_ realizing how tragic love really is.

* * *

... _what you are._

* * *

Through the times, the fleeting emotions, and the moments where you were so, _so_ happy. So happy you could cry, you were loved, _you_ reached up and grabbed the right star. The one that shined the brightest, the one you believed in. Are you crying because you touched the right one?

This moment that bleeds like that star, only lasts for the second of eternity in your beating heart before it burns into ash, left behind in the memories that haunt your dreams.

It makes you scream, laugh, and cry.

It _hurts._

You forget to tell them, it passes your mind because you have the next day to tell them how you feel. The next day is the next day, though, it isn't yesterday. It isn't the day you felt that strong emotion that took your heart and made a tear in it. It's mended from that yesterday. It's gone.

Almost like it _died._

Oh, but it is still there. Just staying in the corners of your heart.

She knows so many people. All are asleep now. They can't see the stars anymore and she wonders if they saw them, briefly, just before they left. Those stars are crying for being picked, for so many being picked at one time.

She feels her heart being torn apart and it doesn't feel like living through to the next day will make the pain go away, her heart, it won't be mended.

Just think, it takes one moment to look up at that night sky, where all those stars sparkle so _innocently._

You cry.

You feel.

... and you love, faithfully and fully, till every single star burns out and nothing remains.


End file.
